


Rah! Rah! Rah!

by rispacooper



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Alley Sex, Cheerleaders, Comment Fic, Crossdressing, First Time, Humor, Intoxication, Jealousy, Language Kink, M/M, Sexual Tension, Skirts, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffeebuddha asked me for boysinskirts and alley sex. Sadly, it stops short of actual sex (this time).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rah! Rah! Rah!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeebuddha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebuddha/gifts).



He really isn't sure why Cougar is staring.

Okay, Cougar always stares--watches--it's part of his whole ever-vigilant, badass sniper thing. His eyes have to be on things, and honestly, none of them really ever forgets the danger they live with--though Jake really, really tries, that's what nights like tonight are all about after all--and Cougar is probably just taking stock of the situation, assessing the environment for danger and Jake for signs of possible coercion.

Though he has no idea why anyone would coerce him to have a few drinks and put on a skirt, but--oh hey, yeah, that's probably the reason for the staring right there.

Perhaps he should explain.

Of course, explaining is easier said then done when you've had a lot of cheap gold tequila and you can feel both tequila and worm swirling around warm in your stomach and Cougar's eyes are actually _visible_ as they watch you and not hidden by his sexy, sexy hat.

Which is really sexy. Jake repeats with his own thought because that hat deserves it, even if it does hide Cougar's gaze from him a lot. Like a _lot_ , a lot more than he'd prefer really, though maybe it's a good thing because Cougar's eyes are on him now and the tequila is hitting Jake hard, leaving him hot and weak and shaky like booze ought to, and really, he's just so hot.

The skirt is a bonus, really. It keeps his legs surprisingly cool. Sure the fabric is itchy and thick, and how cheerleaders look so cheerful in itchy polyester is something Jake fully intends on asking them at some point, and yes, the skirt itself, pleated and pink in exactly the team colors of the Petunias, as he'd ordered, is short and if he moves at all his tight-whiteys are totally visible, but really, it's like air-conditioning having this thing on. Like a cool breeze wafting right up to his junk. Icy and awesome.

Except for how he's still burning hot, so hot his eyes sting a little as he stares back and he has to remember to blink and look around to see where the hell Cougar had come from--as if, Cougar can pass through walls and meld with shadows, Jake is pretty sure--and why he's there and if there's danger.

Because, come to think of it, the hairs at the back of his neck are standing up, and his heart is racing, like something big is about to happen.

He meets Cougar's gaze again after glancing once more around the alley behind the divey but awesome bar down the street from the no-tell motel where they were all temporarily shacking up, and Cougar's eyes dip down.

It's a fraction of a dip. Barely there. Jake puts his hands up.

"What? It's their colors." The lack of response means Cougar knows that. Of course he knows that, he'd been at Jake's side for every game hadn't he? Watching, sitting back and noting everything without comment and watching, always watching, his gaze something Jake could _feel_ even though when he turned around Cougar's hat would be pulled low.

"You know I have to support my girls." He supposes it is a little strange, since they aren't anywhere even near his sister's home and don't plan to be, and also Jake is a grown ass man wearing a tight pink t-shirt with a flower on it and a cheerleading skirt and the guys could be really uptight about that kind of thing.

Cougar swallows at that one. Either Jake said that out loud, or Cougar got it anyway, or...

"See okay, there were these girls inside, and it turns out they were former cheerleaders and--" He isn't sure at all why he goes still right then, except having a weapon in his skirt somewhere--except for the obvious one--would be nice because he has a feeling that shit is about to go down and being armed would be preferable to not being armed.

Especially around a badass, watchful sniper who _melds with shadows_ and who keeps getting closer.

It hardly seems fair. If Cougar had gone down to the bar with him then Jake wouldn't even have had a chance to talk to any cheerleaders, Cougar would have made sure of that, sliding in to sit next to him and making sure any girls present would never look twice at Jake.

He supposed he couldn't blame them. There was a _thing_ about Cougar. An irresistible thing. A sexy thing. A dark sweaty wrong but so right thing that drew people. Pretty much anything in a skirt was helpless when Cougar smiled at them. Or edged closer. Or touched them. Or breathed.

Oh right.

Jake was having a bit of a problem with breathing at the moment too.

"And the cheerleaders, well, former cheerleaders, had some questions about the Petunias, and I had just had the package delivered and the skirt was with me, and one of them was admiring my pants. His name was Sam, and he was nice, so I said I wouldn't mind him being in my pants and--"

The wall hurts. Not getting shot or tortured hurt, more like brick scraping the backs of his legs and pulling his skirt up and ending up a hard pressure against his ass.

"Ow," he says pointedly, though he'd moved backwards on his own when Cougar had come closer. Cougar hadn't even touched him.

"Why are you out here anyway? The bar's inside with Sam and his ex-spirit squad buddy Becky, there for you to steal them away from me, like you always do. It's so unfair. Even you have to agree I am totally hot. I should be getting laid 24/7/12/52/365 plus 1 on a leap year. God it's the pink, isn't it? I am never getting laid again, no matter how awesome my ass looks when I work this skirt."

"Sam?" An actual word from Cougar makes him shut up, for about ten hot seconds while he reconsiders his choice of tequila for the evening and the tequila mocks him by making him itch with sweat and blush like it's prom night.

"Well we aren't in the army anymore," he murmurs finally, his voice low and level despite how his breathing still hasn't caught up with him and gets stuck in his chest when Cougar tilts his head up to look him in the eye.

It's not the proximity, or the scent of his tequila, or the scent of Cougar's gun oil, or that sexy bitch hat, or the awareness that it's dark and they're alone. It's not even the fear that he probably should be experiencing right now. But Jake is getting hard. Embarrassingly, like, in high school and in need of a notebook, this can't be happening, and they're so close there's no way Cougar isn't going to notice. Not Cougar, not even if Jake's erection wasn't pushing up his skirt and brushing up against him would Cougar miss something like that.

Not that he was moving away. Oh no, he was stealthy and he was deadly but he was not moving away. It was like torture after all, maybe worse, since torture generally didn't give Jake boners. Except for that one time, but that had involved feathers and really, that would teach a drunken Pooch not to try to tickle him until he peed his pants.

"See now that..." he tries, practically gasping, and Cougar's hands touch the brick on either side of him. There's still no noise but his own messy, wet breathing, but maybe he doesn't need noise. Maybe the only noise he's ever needed has been his own, and what he really wants is silence and a steady gaze and that look, that barely-there pissed off, burning look that Cougar gets when he sees Jake all over someone else.

So far, those someone elses had always been female, at least that Cougar had seen, maybe that was why it hadn't worked until now.

Or maybe this was just pink polyester and the power of a shapely leg and a fine, fine ass.

"I'm hot right?" There's a nudge, a thigh between his legs. Cougar wants to open him up wide. That would be a yes. "And you want in my skirt?"

His hands are pulled to the wall too, with another firm push, like he's being told to keep them there. He can agree to that, so he nods. A little desperately, but that's totally aces in his book if it means Cougar's hands are now free to slide up his inner thigh and stroke the pounding length of his cock.

His _thumb_. Jake's mind shorts for a second at the feel of Cougar's thumb at the head of his dick. When it reboots, there's a sticky patch under Cougar's thumb and it's still moving, tracing, outlining, fucking owning him.

"Like it fucking should have years ago." It's a whine more than a purr, but that's okay too. Because his head hits the wall, not gently, and then Cougar's mouth is just over the skin of his throat, _just_ over it, and there's scruff and hard breathing that isn't just Jake's now, and every twitch might be hidden by his skirt but Cougar can feel it against his hand.

"Oh, okay, like you wanted to and I didn't notice," Jake amends, and a sound escapes Cougar, a heavy grunt.

He presses forward and Jake shuts his eyes at the panted whisper against his neck, the not-quite words in the way Cougar's fingers dig into his thigh, bruising and then soft, petting him, because he _is_ a highly trained and dangerous operative in a skirt and it's about time someone appreciated that.

Cougar _really_ seems to. Jake can get with that, as long as it's really happening.

"Please tell me I'm about to get laid," he whimpers, shuddering at damp breath under his ear, and then Cougar pulls back, pulls _away_ , and Jake hates tequila and thinks maybe it was just the usual cockblock after all until he catches Cougar staring. Watching.

Jake's stared at Cougar for a long time too, it's how he knows how to translate. It's a long, hot, hard stare and it's almost as good as Cougar fucking him except nothing is as good as that, Jake is pretty sure. His eyes dip low again, just for a moment, and then Cougar swallows. Oh yeah is Jake getting laid it says. For the next hundred years.

But it says it in Spanish, and a lot dirtier, with words Jake doesn't know and some he does, like chingarle and mio and animadora, until Jake's flushed and horny and really, really needs those hands back on his dick.

He's not sure if he just became Cougar's personal cheerleader, but he's willing to live with that. The ideas swims warm in him, like tequila, like the worm, like heat, and so he stares back.

Of course, he's not an ever-vigilant if mostly silent badass sniper, so yeah, he opens his mouth too.

"Hell yes I am," he agrees, and sighs as he's shoved back against the wall and Cougar gets back to owning him for real.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I have never read the comic, so I have no idea what region Cougar is supposed to be from and what Spanish he could speak, if he did speak, so I debated my verbs. If I chose the wrong one, I'm sorry. :)
> 
> Also, Jensen is totally Cougar's hot cheerleader boyfriend.


End file.
